


July 27th, Ohio

by Julesin



Series: Runaways, or That Feel When Multiverse Theory is Confirmed Canon [11]
Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAndersen0
Genre: Discussions of abuse, Inner-body Talks, M/M, Mindspaces, memory slips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesin/pseuds/Julesin
Summary: Talking about the past is never easy.





	July 27th, Ohio

**Author's Note:**

> Possible trigger warnings in this section: discussions of abuse, discussions of Habit and past instability, some dissociation

_Patrick?_

Michael let his projected body drift, head turning left and right, trying to find his body's other inhabitant. 

_Patrick, where are you?_

_Michael?_ The voice came from behind him, and he twisted around to meet the other man's fake eyes. Patrick rubbed one of them of sleep. _What are you doing here?_

The white noise of the mind space surrounded the two figures, blanketing them in the quiet processes of the body's brain. Here, they weren't physical--they had bodies of a sort, but it wasn't real, was just a representation of neurons firing. They communicated primarily through thought here as well, so Michael steeled his mind. 

_I wanted to- Sorry for waking you up. I need to ask you something._ He drifted further, touching something solid and invisible, and sat down, crossing his legs in the air. Patrick cautiously joined him on the projected floor, looking unsure. 

_What about?_

Michael took a deep breath, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit. _Well...you know everything that just…happened? A couple of hours ago? I guess yesterday?_

Patrick's smirk was all knowing and smug as hell. _Why yes, I do know that. Specifically, I remember quite a bit of begging on your part. You did last longer, I'll give you that._

Michael looked at his hands, clenched in his lap uncomfortably. _Evan's...really good._

_I'm aware. What in particular am I supposed to be remembering? Besides you're embarrassing performance?_

Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes and willing away the warmth in his face. _Well, I think you went to sleep pretty soon after we were done, and I've tried to, but..._

Patrick's grin faded slowly, worry replacing it. _But what?_

_I had- I remembered something. A memory that...didn't belong to me._ Michael let his gaze lift back to Patrick's. _Or at least, it felt like something I wasn't actually supposed to see._

The other man's face was solemn. _What was it?_

_Evan and I were... m-making love, but-_ He took a deep breath. _It wasn't him. And I wasn't me. And I don't think it was Evan, but that's the only face I can think of._

Patrick let his head fall into his hands, and he rubbed his face harshly. _I knew this would happen eventually._

_W-what do you mean?_

He let his hands fall into his lap again, face both irritated and sad, and let out a sigh. _Look, Michael, your mind is almost completely accessible to me, but the opposite isn't true. You can't really see any of my mind--at least, not voluntarily. This has happened before, with a couple of my previous hosts, where my memories start overflowing to them. It's always an uncomfortable process._ He looked down at his hands, eyes narrowed in discomfort. _Long story short, that was one of mine._

_But...you've never-_

_That wasn't Evan._ Patrick's fake voice was stern and frustrated, and logically Michael knew the other man wasn't irritated with him, but it still made him shrink back. 

_Then-_

_That was Habit._

Michael's train of thought halted instantly, and he shrunk back for real, eyes widening in disbelief. 

_Specifically, that was one of Habit's previous hosts, but because you've only ever known Habit in the context of Evan's body, your brain awkwardly filled in the gap with what you knew. That's why it didn't feel quite right._ Patrick ran a translucent hand through his hair anxiously. _Hopefully that doesn't happen again. I'll try to keep those to myself from now on._

It felt like the end of the conversation, but Michael had been dealing with Patrick shoving shit like this aside for long enough. Also, he was feeling weirdly aggressive right now. _What_ is _your history with Habit? You never tell me, and I think I deserve to know, especially now._

Patrick almost looked impressed. He let out a long, deep breath, stared at the floor for several moments, then looked Michael in the eye again. _You're right._ He shifted forwards onto his knees, expression more serious than Michael had ever seen him in the past. _It's a lot, so you better have time._

_It's two in the morning._

Patrick dipped his head, accepting the response. _Habit and I are...alike in a lot of ways. We're very similar creatures; I could almost say we're the same species, except that the word 'species' implies a very specific definition of existence that I don't think we fall under. We've both been around in this particular world for a long time, hopping time periods, taking hosts, at least up to a point. Because we were so similar, we worked together for a long time, doing things for the Slim Man. The tall, creepy, white fucker._

_Habit has a very odd relationship with the Man, in that he doesn't necessarily do the guy's dirty work, but they do collaborate, in a sense. The Man has specific victims, like Evan and Vinnie, and Habit tortures them and makes sure the Man has unlimited access to them. The tall guy gets his victim, Habit has a good time. Everybody's happy._ Patrick's voice was deprecating. 

_Where do you come in?_ Michael asked quietly. 

_Like I said, we worked together, though only occasionally at first. When he needed help but couldn't admit it, he would come to me, ramble on and on and ask me for the help without actually saying it. I would usually give it to him, cuz this was back when I was pretty much permanently unstable, all the time. Let me tell you, it's really tiring to be constantly on the edge of insanity without the ability to tip all the way. Being around Habit helped, somehow, and I think most of the reason I was so unstable back then was because of him. His very presence in a room would cause my stability to fluctuate. Our relationship was purely a working one, at first. Nothing really changed until..._

Michael waited patiently as Patrick looked away, biting his lip. 

_There was this one time,_ he began again, slowly. _We had just finished screwing with one of the tall man's victims, and were waiting for clean up to show. It was dark, and late, and we were both covered in blood... I don't even really know what happened, but one second we were joking and complaining about how late Slim was, and the next..._

Michael sat forward, placing a hand carefully on Patrick's thigh. He started, then set his jaw. 

_Maybe it's better if I show you._

Michael hesitated, then nodded, taking his hand back but leaving it hovering in the air, waiting to be held. Patrick slid their fingers together after a moment, then met Michael's eyes. 

_This is going to be...intense. It's just a vision, remember that._ When Michael nodded, Patrick closed his eyes, and the room flashed around them. 

Panting moans filled Michael's ears as the space around him darkened. The harsh tang of iron filled his nose, and though he knew it wasn't real, he could almost imagine blood spattered across the floor. A sharp cry rang through the air, and he watched the two bodies in front of him, tangled together on the ground as they writhed. They were definitely people, and some part of him knew who they were, but the actual bodies were entirely unfamiliar to him. 

Sensations flooded his system, feelings he wasn't personally experiencing but that came from one of the people before him. His head reeled, his eyes watered, and his legs gave out beneath him, cracking his knee caps against the cold, inexistent concrete. He could barely feel anything except the heat, the sweat, the inexplicable sensation of a body on his...

And then it was gone. 

_I told you it would be a lot,_ Patrick murmured, looking away uncomfortably as Michael coughed from the sudden transition. 

_Y-yeah._ Michael let go of Pat's hand, rubbing his face vigorously. _What-what happened afterwards?_

Patrick crossed his arms, hunching over on himself. _Well, we fucked, and then the big guy showed up. You can never tell with him, but somehow I knew even he was embarrassed by us. Anyways, after that, we started to become more than just business partners. We would seek each other out, work on everything together, and, well._ He swallowed awkwardly. _We were practically inseparable._

Michael peered at him for a second longer, waiting for more, but Patrick seemed to be lost in memories. He lightly rested a hand on the other's knee. _What changed?_

Patrick took a deep breath, then looked him straight in the eyes. _You did._ At Michael's confused look, he elaborated. _Before you and Evan were our hosts, we were always able to take control easily, force our hosts where we wanted them to go. But you... You fought back. You were sent to a mental hospital, which contained us for a long time. Long enough for me to stabilize. Habit got stuck in Evan, found a perfect host but got trapped in an unending loop._

Michael sat up a little straighter. _We were the difference?_

He nodded, smile somewhat amused. _Yep. Your insistence on keeping some semblance of sanity, and Evan's entrapment in a resurrection loop, those situations tipped the balance. You were the main cornerstone, though. Without Habit's influence, I was able to stabilize properly. So...I guess, thank you._

Michael looked down at his hands, turning the information over and over in his mind. _I was the key._

_Yeah. How about that?_

He slowly smiled, then looked up to meet Patrick's eyes again. _I'm glad I could help._

The other man smiled back, and silence fell, the two simply thinking privately to themselves. That was hard to do somewhere where your thoughts are broadcasted loud and clear, but they did their best to close themselves off. 

Michael's smile fell, something coming to him. _Patrick?_ He hesitated when he felt the other man's eyes on him. _Do...do you miss him?_

_What?_

_Habit. Do you miss him?_

Patrick's eyes glazed over, and he looked at the floor. _I..._ He took a deep breath, expression tight. _I know I shouldn't. Logically, I shouldn't. He's abusive and horrible, and there was no affection in our relationship. But I guess..._ He looked away, gaze out into the milky whiteness of the body's mind. _Some part of me does._

Michael reached out, took one of Patrick's hands gently in his own. He didn't say anything, couldn't offer any words of comfort, but he didn't need to. They just sat for a while, basking calmly in each other's presence. Maybe a minute, maybe an hour—time was warped in the mindspace.

"Michael? Patrick? Either of you alive in there?"

They both stifled laughter upon hearing Evan's sleepy voice echo around them. Patrick gave Michael an amused look, then grinned, reaching out to pull him closer. He placed a small kiss to the top of Michael's head, then released him, standing slowly so as not to upset his precarious floating balance. 

_Guess it’s morning. You should get out there, comfort him with your awakeness._

Michael stood as well, letting the fake floor vanish from beneath their feet. _What about you?_

Patrick shrugged, still smiling. _I'll be okay. I hung out at the front yesterday, I'll be good for a while. Go show our boyfriend how cute he is in the morning._

Michael sputtered at Patrick's wink, but closed his eyes to return to the world above. 

Evan's smile when he opened the body's eyes was completely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Next week we get a new character...  
> Also sorry this chapter is late. I work food retail and had to work the evening shift on Black Friday... It was awful. I went to sleep immediately when I got home hehe  
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
